What is Hidden in Snow
by Carleen
Summary: Vika met her long lost mother and father. Now, as she continues her adventures. Ulfric Stormcloak sends her to help sack the town of Whiterun. Ulfric has other plans for the Dovahkiin as well. She just doesn't know about them yet. Will it matter?
1. What is Hidden in Snow Chapter 1

TITLE: What is Hidden in Snow

CHAPTER: 1

FANDOM: Elder Scrolls V - Skyrim

SERIES: Skyrim - Brynjolf and Vika's Adventures

Story 1: To Take a Tree From the Forest

Story 2: What is Hidden in Snow

Story 3: Starfire

* * *

_Det som göms i snö, kommer fram vid tö_ - What is hidden in snow, is revealed at thaw

Swedish Proverb

* * *

pEast of Windhelm, a storm churned snow into spinning funnels of blinding white. The perpetual twilight of northern Skyrim deepened as the winter sun lost its weak hold over the sky. With an eye on the weather, farmers rounded up their herds and headed indoors to their fires. Wolves circled and trod down leaves and old snow to make warm beds for themselves. The birds quieted and the rabbits huddled together under the safety whatever shelter they could find./p

pInside the city, shopkeepers closed up their stalls and mothers called their children inside. In the banqueting hall of the Palace of Kings, The Jarl of Windhelm waited patiently for the messenger to arrive. And high above a blood dragon circled lazily on the air currents watching and waiting./p

pOn the edge of the storm, a lone horse galloped toward the gates of Windhelm with a petite figure clinging to its back. Fresh snow swirled and eddied around the churning hooves. The rider kicked the tired horse and shouted his name to urge him up the last yards toward the haven of warmth and food./p

pWhen the sweet scent of hay tickled his sensitive nose, he extended his legs to reach the stone barn. A dirty path of snow churned up behind the horse when the rider brought him to a sliding stop. Jumping quickly to the ground the rider tossed two gold septims to the stable boy. He caught them in midair, lifted his cap and bid the Dragonborn welcome to Windhelm./p

pHe didn't need to see what's under the wool and leather to know this is Vika, the Dovahkiin. Last summer, he personally watched her kill a dragon almost entirely by herself. He'd wanted to help, but his mother grabbed him and made him come inside. Perhaps next summer he will be old enough to ride with the beautiful redhead and maybe kill a dragon or two himself. But those are the dreams of a stable boy. He had horses to feed and water to draw before he could head in out of the storm. He watched Vika run toward the gates before he turned reluctantly back to her horse./p

pVika took the snow covered stone steps two at a time as she ran toward Ulfric Stormcloak's palace. The guards nodded to her in greeting. One of them always asked her to enchant his sword. She would be happy to do it if it wasn't for the fact she'd been warned about what he really meant by sword./p

pShe's also been warned about Ulfric Stormcloak. That didn't stop her headlong rush to get to his side. Perhaps she should know better. Perhaps she does know better, but after a year of adventuring and hunting dragons she isn't afraid of anything anymore. If he's arrogant and smug then he's no different from any other man or elf she's met on the road. Except, of course, her father. Her father is Brynjolf, the head of the Thieves Guild and an advisor to the Jarl of Riften./p

p She'd been here many times, so the path to the Palace of the Kings was familiar to her. By completing the odd job or important quest, both as the Dragonborn and a Stormcloak soldier. With each successful commission Ulfric had drawn her further into his inner court. He'd honored her by making her his Thane and she'd purchased property here in the city. A large stone house, it had once been the lair of a murderer. Once she'd solved the crime, he'd offered her the house and assisted her with having it cleaned and aired. Ulfric seemed to take great pleasure helping her decorate the hall. /p

pHer legs trembled as she strides the length of the great table. He knows why she's here, of course. Scouts reported seeing her on the road to Windhelm an hour ago. He's also aware about the fall of Whiterun, but he wants to watch her face flush with the telling. He's a patient man and he wants this latest scheme to play out naturally. No reason to rush. They had all winter./p

pShe stopped at the end of the table and he rose from his throne. Vika would do just about anything to earn a smile from this man. Her heart thudded in response when he placed his hands on her shoulders./p

pHe waited for her to tell him the news he already knows. His father always told him to allow his soldiers to take pride in their accomplishments. Her eyes are bright and cheeks are flushed with excitement and a little of it, he assures himself, is for him./p

p"Victory, my Little Dragonborn?"/p

p"Whiterun is yours, Ulfric! The Jarl surrendered."/p

pShe was a beauty. Bright ice blue eyes, hair as red as a sunset. Straight white teeth and lips begging for a kiss. He wondered idly if she'd ever been kissed before. Would she fight him if he tried? Would she fight him if he asked her to stay?/p

pUlfric lifted her into the air and swung her around. Then with his eyes on her and his large hands holding her firmly he held her against him just a little longer than was polite and let her slid slowly down to the stone floor. emTalos./em He was aroused by the simple touch of her youthful body against his and the innocent trust in her eyes. Perhaps she wouldn't fight him./p

pBehind them Jorleif the Jarl's advisor cleared his throat./p

pWith a wave of his hand Ulfric shouted for servants to take her to the women's wing and allow her to bathe. "Give her some of that spiced wine. Come gentlemen have more drink. We will wait for the Dovahkiin to join us for dinner and allow her to tell us stories of our brave soldiers victories."/p

pExhausted, cold and hungry, Vika allowed herself to be escorted down a long corridor. The women around her clucked and cackled like hens. With Vika between them the group of women entered a small room dominated by a stone tub and a fireplace. They stripped her of the sodden garments and assisted her into the high-sided tub. The water steamed and Vika allowed her tired body to melt into the fragrant water./p

pOne of the ladies took a piece of soap and a square of linen to Vika's blood and dirt encrusted arms. Another began to comb the ash and dust out her long red hair. Accustomed to bathing in frigid streams this decadence reminded her of home when she could bathe like this every day and soak as long as she cared to./p

pOne of the younger girls giggled, "You're very pretty, miss. But no man will want a woman who has more muscles than himself… or, forgive me… more scars."/p

p"Why would any of that matter?" Vika asked not really caring about the answer, because she was drifting between the water warming her bones and the fragrant air. When she dozed off the women withdrew. As she dozed, thoughts of Vilkas pulling her to his side surfaced. She remembered how nice his kiss felt and smiled. She would very much like to be kissed again./p

pShe felt a finger trace across the part of her breast that was visible just above the water./p

p"Is that smile for me?"/p

pThe deep voice of Ulfric, make her gasp and pull herself upright only to find herself alone and naked with the Jarl. She noticed him staring at her breasts and quickly covered them with her arms./p

p"Do not fear me little Dovahkiin. You are my bravest warrior," he commented quietly and with his fingers he gently brushed a strand of hair back from her forehead. "You take on dragons, the Dark Brotherhood and anything else which crosses your path. Vika, I intend to put myself in your path. Are you brave enough to take on Ulfric Stormcloak?"/p


	2. What is Hidden in Snow Chapter 2

TITLE: What is Hidden in Snow

CHAPTER: 2

FANDOM: Elder Scrolls V - Skyrim

SERIES: Skyrim - Brynjolf and Vika's Adventures

Story 1: To Take a Tree From the Forest

Story 2: What is Hidden in the Snow

* * *

_Att våga är att tappa fotfästet en stund, att inte våga är att förlora sig själv_. - To dare is to lose your foothold for a moment, to not dare is to lose yourself.

-Swedish Proverb

* * *

He licked his lips as she stared at his mouth. She decided he had kind eyes and there was no reason to be nervous. The steamy lilac scented water swirled with the masculine scent of the blond man in front of her. This was the man who would save Skyrim from the Imperials and return Talos worship to her people. She'd escaped from the brutality of her home and accepted her destiny as the Dovahkiin. She was a woman now. Wasn't she? So if a woman's needs lifted her arms away from her chest and toward the handsome virile man leaning over the tub then she had a right to him. Didn't she?

A chuckle rumbled from Ulfric's chest and she felt his hands on her bare shoulders. Yes, she decided. She wanted to be kissed in exactly the same way Vilkas had kissed her that night in the Inn. So she held her mouth up for the kiss. What she didn't expect to feel were Ulfric's hands slid under her legs to lift her from the water.

This wasn't like the kiss she'd shared with her shield brother. This made her feel excited and out of control like when she stood against a dragon. Or walking alone in a dark cavern with the creaking-clanking sound of draugr ahead. This was not what she imagined. This was naked in a man's arms. Snatching a linen towel from the nearby stool she twisted out of his arms and covered herself.

"Stop!"

"Careful, I would not want you to make the mistake of using your voice on me."

"You attempted to take more than was offered, sir."

Ulfric sat back on his heels and observed the indignant woman-girl before him. She was obviously not the usual Skyrim peasant. He'd underestimated her, but he would not do so again.

"Where were you raised? Not in Riften, as my spies reported."

Vika raised her chin at him, draping the linen towel around herself as if it was the richest of silk robes, "Jarl, if you'll allow me to complete my bath, I will join you downstairs and answer anything you wish to know about me."

He hadn't survived this long without knowing when to retreat. But there was still that kiss. So without touching her, Ulfric bent over and brushed his lips over hers. Desire shot through him when she sucked in a breath and he felt her mouth relax.

"Careful little Dovahkiin there is more to a man than a simple kiss. Soon you will learn to kiss me like a woman who wishes her man to know she wants him."

"I-I don't know what you mean…"

"I can tell. Don't keep deprive us of your charms too long."

Her knees gave out as she watched him stride out of the chamber. This was not a dragon, a draugr, or a new spell to learn, but a man full grown. She landed with a thump on the stool next to the tub.

Thirty minutes later she entered the banquet hall dressed in a simple gown of green velvet overlaid with a surcote of black leather trimmed with colorful bands of silk embroidery. Her red hair hung down her back as befitted a maiden. Over her head a simple cap of matching green velvet. All heads turned when she entered the room. Then each man in the party vied to gain her attention. She ignored all of them and moved gracefully to Ulfric's side.

Oh, to be clean and dressed in pretty clothes again. This court was much like her parent's home. A graceful world she knew and where she felt comfortable. A place where education and the arts were supported and encouraged. Every night after supper there was dancing or storytelling and she always participated.

Before she took Ulfric's offered arm she sank into a curtsey, "Thank you, My Jarl for your hospitality and kindness. It's good to be dressed appropriately and back in sophisticated company."

He gallantly kissed her hand before leading her to the place of honor at the table.

"You're most welcome, my lady Vika."

The feast began. Ulfric served her himself and gave her the choicest cuts of meat from his own plate. A fact which did not go unnoticed by the guests. If Vika understood what it meant, she ignored it. The dress was too pretty, her escort too handsome for anything to spoil her fun. She wondered if there would be dancing or singing after supper? Ulfric gave her a sip of spiced wine from his own cup before he answered her.

"What is your wish, my lady?"

"Well, I would enjoy a dance. But storytelling is my favorite."

"Then you shall have both."

And Ulfric clapped his hands and the bards took their places. When one of the bards finished his song, he inquired a silent question toward Vika and she nodded her consent.

"My lord Ulfric. Your lovely lady is known to me. We studied at the Bard's College together. Perhaps if you were to ask her she might sing a song to soothe our war-weary hearts.

The bard handed her a cup of wine to warm her throat and gallantly made a place for her to sit. Another bard handed her his lute. The hall went silent as Vika's delicate fingers danced over the strings.

_"We drink to our youth, and to days come and gone_

_For the age of oppression is now nearly done_

_We'll drive out the Empire from this land that we own_

_With our blood and our steel we will take back our home_

_All hail to Ulfric! You are the High King!_

_In your great honor we drink and we sing_

_We're the children of Skyrim, and we fight all our lives_

_And when Sovngarde beckons, every one of us dies!_

_But this land is ours and we'll see it wiped clean_

_Of the scourge that has sullied our hopes and our dreams"_

Everyone pounded the table and shouted the last two lines of the song. When the cheering finally stopped and the blush cooled from her cheeks, Ulfric found his way to her side and raised her hands to his lips. The crowd cheered again.

What better choice could Ulfric make than the Dovahkiin herself? She was known and loved throughout Skyrim and the match would be celebrated from Markarth to Riften. After all, a man needed a wife and these two made a handsome couple. She was beautiful and healthy and would give Ulfric many fine sons to help rule Skyrim.

Vika knew none of this. She felt only the enjoyment of singing and the feel of fine clothes on her skin. The attention of educated men, well prepared food and good wine. The young Nord girl laughed out loud and felt the weight of her destiny slip from her shoulders. Tonight was a reminder of simpler times. To gain their attention she strummed the opening notes to a well known drinking song.

_"Drink, for the wind blows cold and_

_Drink for The Wolf runs free._

_Drink to the ships with the sails like wings and_

_Drink to the storm-tossed seas._

_~o~_

_Drink to the lasting nights_

_and those who warm our beds._

_Drink to the mead that warms our hearts,_

_and the cold that clears our head._

_~o~_

_Drink to the All Father's Eye_

_for sons of Talos are we._

_Drink to the World-Tree where he hung_

_and the Runes of Mystery_

_~o~_

_Drink to the truth of steel_

_and blood that falls like rain._

_Drink to Sovngard's golden walls_

_and to our kinsmen, slain._

_~o~_

_Drink to the Glory-field_

_where a man embraces death, and_

_thank the gods that we live at all_

_with our joyous dying breath!_

_~o~_

_Drink for the wind blows cold and_

_Drink for the Wolf runs free_

_Drink to the ships with the sails like wings_

_for sons of Talos are we!"_

As each of the guests picked up a verse to sing, to be sung in a round Ulfric pulled Vika into his arms and danced with her around the banquet table. The guests roared their approval. Holding her so close her feet were barely touching the floor, he spun her around and around.

Under the clapping and singing, the Jarl expertly maneuvered Vika into the battle room. Filling his hands with her fiery hair he kissed her deeply. He'd wanted to be alone with her since she entered the palace. He didn't ask for permission and didn't stop kissing her until her hands were gripping his shirt.

"Show me, little Dovahkiin. Show me that you want this as much as I do." Ulfric breathed against her neck, sinking his teeth into the pale flesh below her ear.

Her cry was lost in the sound of singing and merry-making. The room spun around her. Ulfric had her backed against the wall so her vision was filled with his broad shoulders and a handsome face. Both taller and heavier than her, his virile demeanor suddenly frightened her. Large hands dug into her upper arms as the dress was pulled off her shoulders. The foraging mouth travelled down her neck moving aside the fabric still in his way.

His hot wet mouth sucked at the upper curve of her breast. Her breasts were bare now. The chill air puckered her nipples as he pulled away and bent down to reach for them. With her arms trapped against her side in the velvet fabric. She couldn't raise her hands she couldn't cast a spell to stop him. Something was keeping her from calling for help.

_Shout, you silly fool! Shout!_

But nothing worked. The power of her Thu'um was silent and unreachable. Her legs would not hold her upright. Her hands could only claw at the fabric of the dress. The room stopped spinning, but the candlelight gutted and smeared painful shards of light against her eyes. All the light and heat was being sucked from the room. She could no longer tell if her eyes were opened or closed. Vika opened her mouth to scream, but there was no air in her lungs.

Somewhere close by a man uttered a curse and yelled, "What is this?"


	3. What is Hidden In Snow Chapter 3

TITLE: What is Hidden In the Snow

CHAPTER: 3

AN: Today is National Apple Dumpling Day!

* * *

Keerava woke at dawn and remembered today was Skyrim Apple Dumpling Day. Once she got the Bee and Barb set up for customers, she left Talen-Jei in charge and headed down to Ingun's Alchemy Shop. Once the Elgrims had been asked to leave Riften, the Jarl granted Ingun ownership of the shop. She'd turned the business around and now it was a busy shop. She'd even begun to accept apprentice alchemits.

When she opened the front door it was to discover Brynjolf passionately kissing his wife, while she kept a hold on the mortar and pestle she was using to crush some dried snowberries. The couple was oblivious to her presence.

When she lost track of the ingredients for the third time she gave Brynjolf a shove. "If you would stop distracting me, I'd be finished by now. I think I hear the Jarl calling you, should go see."

"I'm very busy," he whispered and kissed her again, moving to nibble on her earlobe. "Kiss me properly wench and I'll leave you to your potions. I do reserve the right to dominate your time later though."

"I have an idea. With Vika in Windhelm why don't we try out that tub you made… for… her… Good morning, Keerava!"

Ingun grabbed his beard and kissed him hard and quick, "Out!"

Chuckling the whole way, Brynjolf exited the alchemy shop with head high. "Careful Keerava. She's in a mood."

"I'd say you're the cause of it, Bryn." she snapped in her throaty voice.

Ingun watched her husband saunter out of her shop. _Gods, how she loved him._ He'd need a thorough bath tonight. She shivered when she thought about his wet soapy hands on her. She lost count again. Damn! The potion could wait until tomorrow.

"What can I do for you, Keerava?"

"Today is Skyrim Apple Dumpling Day. I want to make a batch and use some of that expensive cinnamon you had on hand last month. That is if you still have it. "

"I do. Here you go." Ingrun scooped a double helping of the rare spice into a stone jar and sealed it closed. She held up her hand when Keerava offered her payment. "On the house. I insist. You're a good friend, Keerava."

"You don't have to do that...well, with winter here...you and Bryn come by at supper time. I'll have one ready for each of you. It's good to see both of you so happy, Ingun. Although, he's behaving no better than a boy with his first crush, his happiness is genuine."

Ingun came around the counter and hugged the surprised Argonian. "Thank you, Keerava. We are happy. Happy to have a second chance and happy to have our daughter back with us."

"She's in Windhelm, I hear?"

"She is. She's sided with Ulfric so she's off doing his bidding. Riften will have to make a choice soon or the fighting will come here. But I try not to worry. She's a good fighter and a smart girl."

"Don't forget that, Ingun. Ulfric won't allow her to come to any harm."

Alone in the shop, Ingun could no longer keep her mind on her work. With an exasperated sigh, Ingun put away her ingredients and hung up her apron. Then she went in search of her husband. She needed to be near him. Needed his strength and his love.

The sunny winter day made her squint after the gloomy shop. Taking the stairs two at a time she nearly ran into Brynjolf at the top of the steps. He was just thanking a courier. Brynjolf pulled her to his side.

"What is it Bryn?" The look on his face concerned her. She took his arm and led him toward Honeyside.

By the time she'd poured them both a cup of mulled wine, he'd opened the paper. A second paper slipped out and landed on the tabletop.

"Bryn, you're scaring me. What is it?"

"It's from Vika with the Jarl's seal." He turned the page over so she could see the imprinted wax figure of the bear's head.

~0~

When she discovered her head was too heavy to lift Vika stayed still and opened her eyes. The room was hung with green velvet and tapestries depicting the Windhelm bear emblem. So, she was still in Windhelm. Was this the Jarl's room?

"No, it's my room. He won't look for you here. We need to talk."

"Who...? Oh, it's you, Jorleif. "

"You're safe for the moment, my lady. And that's why you need to listen to me now. He will wake up soon and come looking for you."

In spite of her headache, Vika pushed herself up in bed. She was dressed in the linen shift she wore under the dress last night. There was blood on her collar and her neck felt sore. She put a hand up and found a bandage.

"What did he do to me, Jorleif? And what did you do to us? You had something to do with me passing out last night."

"I knew he was drunk. Drunk, not only with drink, but with power. And, my lady he can be single minded when he sets his mind to obtaining something he wants

"Did he…? Talos! Is he a vampire?"

"No. He's… please try and understand. He's had a very hard life. Seen his father killed, tortured by the Aldmeri, treated like filthiest dung in the street and surrounded by violence always. He's a proud and driven man."

"I can understand all of what you say. But last night he almost...he almost…."

"No, my lady. Never. He would never hurt you or take you against his will."

"That's not what I saw in his eyes last night. He pulled my dress down. If you hadn't intervened…" unexpected tears stung her eyes.

She wanted to be anywhere but this place. Yesterday, all she wanted was to be by his side, dancing and enjoying herself. Now, in the light of day, she wanted to be gone from here. Far from the cloying air of being so close to him and his hungry mouth. Like a silly girl she'd fooled herself into thinking this was where she belonged. That she could be a young girl again and dance all night or flirt with any man she chose. Instead, she'd found the same monster as her father lurking behind the luxurious fabric, fine food and polite manners.

"He cares for you, Dovahkiin. I can see you care for him. He's a complicated man with many demons who sometimes get too close. Can you find it in your heart to give him a second chance?"

"Please call me Vika. Jorleif, I don't have much choice do I? I'm not allowed to leave."

"No my, la...Vika. The Jarl's specific orders." Suddenly, Jorleif's head came up like a hunting dog. "He's coming up the passageway. He must not see me."

"Wait! Don't leave me alone with him. Please…"

But he was gone down a side passage. The door crashed open to reveal Ulfric Stormcloak in an open shirt, breeches and bare feet. He threw himself down to his knees at the side of the bed.

"Vika! I have been searching for you everywhere."

He grabbed her hands before she could pull away and began covering them with kisses. There were tears in his eyes.

Perhaps Jorleif was right. How could he not be a tormented man? He'd been through worse than she. Far worse.

"Please tell me I'm forgiven. I was so drunk I must have passed out. I was wrong. I trifled with you like a green boy. Never again." He vowed.

She still thought he had kind eyes. Next time she would be prepared for these moods. Now that she knew she'd be better prepared for them. She would provide him peace and understanding mood.

"Ulfric? Please get off the floor. You're chilled."

He pulled himself onto the bed and gratefully scooped Vika up in his arms. Not a finger touched her improperly and he did not kiss her. Simply holding her against his chest as if she was a child.

Vika felt herself relaxing. It was good to be held like this. Comforted in a way she'd never been. She felt her resolve softening toward him. Perhaps she'd been wrong about him last night? The drinking and loud music and of course the potion Jorleif gave them. Vika shyly moved her head from under his chin and lifted her eyes to his.

"Are you sure, little Dovahkiin?"

When he kissed her this time it was in response to her hand on his neck pulling him down to her. Although it was a chaste kiss, Ulfric didn't move away until she did. Then he set her back down on the bed and pulled the blankets over her lap.

"Sweet Vika. I have something for you. Please accept it only if you've forgiven me." From his pocket he pulled a gold necklace. The pendant held the likeness of a bear and a dragon. The bear's eyes were diamonds and the dragon's eyes a flawless ruby.

"It's beautiful, Ulfric." This time there were tears in her eyes.

"I meant what I said yesterday when I intruded on your bath. I mean to court you, Vika. But not like yesterday. Never again. Like a gentleman courts a lady. This is your first gift from me. And it represents the possibility of a future together with you."

He kissed her hand. "The day is fine and clear. Will you ride out with me, Lady Vika? I need the fresh air to clear my head and your sweet company."

"Just give me a moment to change!"

When the door closed behind the Jarl, Vika jumped out of bed and dressed in the warm riding clothes which had been already laid out for her. Carefully braiding her hair she pulled a sheepskin hat over her head and clasped the necklace around her neck. Then with new goatskin gloves and a light heart she headed toward the stable. It was all she could do to keep from running.

He waited for her just outside the gate. With a retinue of five archers, a woman servant and a standard bearer. Good, she was glad to see the archers. They would need them if a dragon showed up. No! Not today. She wouldn't allow it.

~0~

"She's...she...intends to marry him. I've heard too many stories about that man to allow my daughter to link herself to him. I won't allow it!" Brynjolf slammed his fist on the table so hard the tableware jumped.

"She's no child. If they care for each other. It seems a good match. Tell me that's the way of it, Bryn. Please."

"We need to go talk to the Jarl. Now. Come lass, we have important work to do."

The second envelope lay forgotten on the table.


	4. What is Hidden in Snow Chapter 4

TITLE: What is Hidden in the Snow

CHAPTER: 4

* * *

_At every doorway, ere one enters, one should spy round_. -Hávamál, st. 1

* * *

Brynjolf drained his cup and rose to leave the house. Ingun pulled back down with her hand and a concerned look. "Bryn, I don't understand. He's a fine looking man. Shouldn't we proud of our little girl?"

"Ah lass, of course we should. She's earned whatever reward she desires. But much more is known about Ulfric than you're aware of yet." Brynjolf kissed his wife's hand. "But just like you. I don't fully understand the timing of it, but to have you back in my life is a gift from Sovngarde. So let's head over to the Jarl's and get this sorted out."

The Jarl greeted Brynjolf and Ingun in her private rooms. Once austere, the Jarl's personal rooms now reflected the benefits of Riften's new wealth. All her citizens appreciated the increased comfort and quality of their lives. The plans Brynjolf put into action had born fruit and everyone in Riften reaped the rewards. She poured them each a hot cup of tea, served with her own hands and joined them at the small table.

Brynjolf handed the letter to the Jarl and she read it aloud. Her frown deepening with every sentence.

_Dear Mother and Da_

_I have such happy news to share with you. Ulfric asked me to be his wife and I accepted. I hope you are as happy about this as I am. He's such a good and kind man. Of course, you must come to Windhelm for the ceremony!_

_Vika_

"Brynjolf," the Jarl began gently. Then she stopped and looked at Ingun. "Ingun, please forgive my bluntness. This information may not be known to you." The Jarl drew a breath and began. "This man is a womanizer and will use anything and anyone he sees as a necessary to achieve his goals. Marriage to a celebrity like Vika, adding her legend to his would only increase his status. He is a powerful man. Of course, he uses women. Men like him need woman around them at all times."

Brynjolf took his wife's hand — This was worse than he feared.

"But he only uses them as long as they remain faithful and submissive. At least two young ladies disappeared once they were hired as servants in the palace. It was put out they died in childbirth. Their families never saw a body—never laid them to rest in the hall of the dead."

"I will go."

"No, Brynjolf." The Jarl stopped him with her hand. Ulfric is loved and respected in Windhelm. There's nothing wrong, except what our own instincts and rumors tell us, with them being together. On the surface, it is an excellent match. The townspeople will wonder why you are not proud of your daughter for catching the eye of Ulfric Stormcloak."

Then his gaze turned serious and he took his tea to the fireplace. As Brynjolf gazed into the fire and formed his own plan. And while he stroked fingers through his beard, the two women exchanged a look. There were other ways to deal with this situation.

~o~

The icy stone walls didn't provide much purchase as he climbed the south-west corner of Windhelm's city walls. The palms of the gloves he wore were scoured which improved his grip and his chances of not falling back into the snow. Which from this height would surely break his back.

Although he'd made this climb many times, he'd been able to choose the moment. Brynjolf might have been just a little younger the last time he'd made this climb and it certainly wouldn't have been snowing. But the weather did provide him additional cover. So when he pulled himself over the top of the wall there was no one is sight. The master thief laid there with the wind blowing straight at him for a full minute before proceeding.

A conveniently placed stack of crates allowed him easy access into the marketplace. When his feet hit the ground he dropped out of sight behind a stall to watch and wait. Annoyed at his frozen beard and eyelashes, Brynjolf rubbed the heals of his hands across his face. Then carefully pulled his hood back over his head and scanned the area from behind a produce cart.

Grateful to be out of the wind and blowing snow, Brynjolf proceeded toward the palace by sliding from one shadow to the next. No one noticed him as he headed inside the Palace of Kings. He flexed his fingers and the secret entrance yielded to his skilled fingers. If they'd caught him, Brynjolf reckoned they would kill him. His spies reported Ulfric turned Windhelm into a police state. His anxiety for his daughter pushed him forward.

Two guards passed him and the master thief spread himself thin against the gray stones of the palace corridor. The war room was deserted, which surprised him. He imagined Ulfric would be planning night and day for the next conquest. Perhaps he's busy with his latest conquest? Brynjolf clamped down on that thought. There's nowhere to hide long stone hallways so he must keep his wits sharp. And not fall into the rage he feels churning in his chest. Fortunately, it was so late that even the night guards were off napping or stealing food in the kitchen.

The same spies who stacked those crates for him also provided him a map to Vika's quarters. The door is just ahead. Anger churned in his chest and his hands clenched the grip of his sword. Not sure what he'll do if he finds Ulfric in bed with his daughter. He will have to cross the bridge when and if he comes to it. Slipping carefully inside the door, Brynjolf closed it quietly behind him.

Naturally, there's no lock on the door. Ulfric would never allow one of his women to refuse him. The thought that Ulfric was using his daughter shoots a frisson of rage through him. Brynjolf narrowly stopped himself from punching his fist into the wooden door. He tried to plan what he will do if they are together. It's not his place to run her life, but it is his place to protect her.

In the light of a small candle, his rage is calmed by the sight of his sleeping daughter.

He could just make out her features in the gloom and for a moment he just enjoyed watching her sleep. The smell of an apple tart reaches his nose as he approached the bed. Two days ago, it was Skyrim Apple Tart Day. after the events of finding out about Vika's news they'd forgot to head over to the Bee and Barb for their treat.

Reaching out to lay a hand over her mouth so she won't scream, she surprised him by rising up from the bed and neatly laying a glass dagger at this throat. He stopped in mid motion and lowered his hands.

Brynjolf's grin was genuine. "That's my girl." he whispered over the sharp blade at this throat. "You do me proud, daughter,"

The glass dagger fell forgotten between them as she threw her arms around her father. Brynjolf retrieved the knife and laid it on the bedside table before returning her hug. The first thing he noticed was she seemed to have lost weight. He pulled back to find the circles under her eyes are so dark they look like bruises. Her blue eyes reflected something he hadn't seen before.

"Lass, are ye well?"

Instead of responding she ducked her head against his shoulder and tightened her grip on him.

"You're here to give us your blessing?"

"No daugther, I am here because I am concerned for you.

"But why?"

"For one thing, ye won't look me in the eye. For another, you don't look as happy as you'd like me to think you are. But I will not discuss it further because I could not endure the thought of turning you away from your mother and me. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for a reason. I need a favor, lass."

"Of course. But I would never turn from you...why would you think that..."

He silenced her with is fingers on her lips. "Go with Ralof when he asks for your help. He needs your skills. I know Ulfric is enjoying his successes, but we...the people of Skyrim still need their Dragonborn. Don't forget us, lass."

"But Ulfric needs me here. He tells me everyday how much he relies on my council."

Brynjolf looked away to hide the reaction he can't stop from creasing his face. She was trapped in an emotional web of that scoundrel's weaving. He had one more thing to say and then he'd have to go to allow whatever effect his words had on her take their course.

"Da? You should go. I'm afraid of what might happen if they find you here."

"Come here daughter and let me hold you for a moment longer. Then ask yourself why you'd need to worry about your own father in the home of your intended. I love you, lass."

"I-I love you, too. Da, wait. Please..."

But he is gone. The soft thud of the door closing is the only sign he was even there. Until, she noticed her apple tart is also gone.

For the remainder of the night she paced her room. Her father would not have risked coming here unless it was important. They had always watched out for each other. But this was something more. Perhaps at breakfast she will inquire with Ulfric about her father and mother coming for a visit. What will his reaction be?

He's been solicitous and generous to her since she consented to stay here in the Palace. She'd also assumed he would need her in the field, but that had not been so. Each time the question came up he would laugh it away and convince her she was needed at the palace. If she were not here, who would see to the comfort of his guests?

Who would keep the wary parties from going at each other's throat in his feasting hall? He needed her here with him, where she could comfort and advise him. Then he would pull her close and bury his face in her neck. "You're the only thing keeping me sane, Vika. Don't leave me. Please?"

Then there would be a pretty necklace or jeweled hair net waiting for her in her room that night and she would convince herself that he needed her. And she would allow a maid to brush out her long hair and help her change into one of her many beautiful night dresses, slide between soft cotton sheets and fall asleep thinking about how romantic it was to be needed by such a great man as Ulfric Stormcloak.

The soft gray light of dawn crept through her bedroom window by the time she'd stopped pacing and pulled her armor from under the bed. She'd hidden it under there many weeks ago. Why? As she ran her fingers over the leather straps and buckles, she's reminded of her Shield Brothers. How long has it been since she's seen Vilkas or Farkas? When she'd last been in Whiterun it was to help sack the town. Once the Jarl had surrendered she'd slipped away to the Jorvasker only to find the door locked.

Everyone around her was too busy trying to recover from the shock of the attack. There was nothing left for her to do but walk to the stables and retrieve her horse. Up until that moment, when she'd begun to notice the bodies, she'd thought she'd done a great thing. Then next to the well in the marketplace, she saw old Sig, the guard who had once asked her what was wrong and had she lost her sweet roll. They had both laughed at his joke. Now he was dead, with a storm cloak arrow through his heart. He would never laugh again.

Floating in the storm ditch she recognized one of the children. The tough little girl who never failed to ask Vika if she wanted to play a game or fight depending on her mood. Several months ago, Vika had given her a finely carved wooden sword – she'd polished it herself at Adrienne's forge – the girl had nearly burst into tears. Then gave Vika a fierce hug, dragged a ragged sleeve across her dirty face and ran away. Vika retrieved the sword from the water and pulled the little girl up on the bank. She pulled the little girls cold hands up to her chest and placed the sword in her hands. After a quick prayer to Talos to welcome this child into Sovngard Vika hurried away her eyes blurred with burning moisture.

And the moment she passed the War Maiden's shop and Adrienne and her husband didn't respond to her greeting almost broke her heart. They'd simply gotten up and went inside. One of the new Stormcloak guards opened the gate for her and she walked away from Whiterun. It wasn't until she'd ridden for several miles that she stopped and sobbed into her horse's neck.

Once the tears were dry she'd hurried to Windhelm. Ulfric's reception hand driven all those sad and guilty thoughts away. And now here she stood, sad and wondering why she felt so confused. She'd allowed herself to be blinded by the fine clothes and jewels, the deference to her status. The fawning courtiers who sought to get to Ulfric through her. No more.

When once she'd been contended and happy to journey with her Shield Brothers. Fight the Silver Hands gang, or help people in need. To learn skills from her father and spend time with him doing good works. Working with her Mother in the alchemy shop perfecting her skills. Once morning they have been working on a complicated potion and the whole thing had caught fire, by the time they'd put the fire out, they'd realized they'd turned themselves green. It took all Vika's skill to manage a spell to turn them both back to normal. They'd laughed together until they couldn't breath.

Vika's hands twisted into the fine lawn fabric of her gown. She wanted to spend the day with her mother.

The gown ripped at the seams and fell into a puddle at her feet.

She wanted to sup in the Yorvasker mead hall again, with her father by her side.

Piece by piece she laced and buckled on her cherished Nordic armor. She would go riding today. Perhaps she would go riding or practice her magic spells in the woods. Her dappled gray horse hadn't been ridden in months. She would saddle him herself.

After tightly braiding her hair she shouldered her bow and sword and took the food in her room in a small napkin. With each step down the hallway she felt free and young.

But when she approached the throne, Ulfric turned a stormy furrowed brow to her. "Little Dovahkiin, where do you think you are going on this fine morning?

"For a ride, My Jarl."

"Not today, my pet. I have no time to spend with you and no men available to accompany you."

"Begging your pardon, but I don't require an escort." With more courage than her pounding heart felt, she lifted her chin and locked eyes with him. Something her father had said to her last night had stuck with her. She wanted to be outside in the clear frosty air of her beloved Skyrim. How had she forgotten her own work. There were things needed doing. She thought of Sig and that little girl in Whiterun. Ulfric would run things, she had work to do. She needed to wash the blood away from her heart and hands.

"You do if I say you do, little one. Now, go put on that pretty red dress and come sit with me while I parlay with these dreary politicians. Run along, pet."

She noticed his hands gripped the carved arm rests of his throne.

"I prefer to go riding, Ulfric."

All eyes were upon them now. Vika knew better than to bait him in front of his courtiers. It wasn't her intention to make a confrontation. She simply intended to go riding.

Behind her the door opened and with a rush of cold morning air came a small troop of storm cloak soldiers. A familiar voice behind her made her turn quickly. So quickly the tall blond man hand to catch her to keep them from crashing into one another.

"Good to see you, friend." Ralof said with a warm smile. "I see you're ready to go. I asked them to saddle your horse when we rode by the stable."


	5. What is Hidden in Snow Chapter 5

TITLE: What is Hidden in Snow

CHAPTER: 5

AN: Dear Readers. I just published chapter 5 of this story and I noticed it's not getting many readers. The stats page also indicates less than half of you open the next chapter. Maybe Skyrim isn't popular anymore. I know my writing needs improvement and I work on my writing skills everyday. But I also rely on your feedback. I don't need a formal review, just some feedback. Is it boring, interesting or cliched? Is it believable, do you care what happens to Vika? Thank you very much! -Carleen

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When Ulfric recognized the group of men entering his palace he sank back on his throne and resumed his usual air of indifference. With a grin, Vika recognized as false, he nodded to the soldiers as they approached.

"Well, well, my lady. I can hardly worry about you when you're escorted by a squad of my best Stormcloaks." Ulfric nodded toward Ralof, "Captain. I trust you'll take good care of my lovely lady."

"Only with my life, Ulfric." Rolf made a shallow bow to the Jarl and with a quick hidden signal to his men. They encircled Vika and before anyone could question them they'd swept her outside. The young Stormcloak captain bowed again and with a swirl of his cloak strode purposefully out the huge wooden doors. Once outside they stepped up the pace and hurried through the snow flurries to get to the main gates.

One of his men held Vika's horse just outside the gate. When she saw him, she dashed down the steps and vaulted onto the handsome dappled gray. The horse seemed glad to see her as he began to nod his head and pick up his feet.

Vika responded, "Tyven!"

Once she was in the saddle, the horse and rider streaked toward open land.

"Vika wait!"

Ralof didn't even bother trying to catch up with her. He did keep her in sight as his men followed him down the road. Even her horse seemed happy to be free as he stretched out his neck and increased his stride. Fresh snow billowed up behind them. She'd come so far since that fateful day in Helgen, but at what cost? And how much could she afford to pay? And for how long?

Vika crouched over the horse's neck clinging like a burr. By the time she circled back to Ralof she was smiling. It's a smile he's familiar with and happy to see again.

She brought her dapple-gray to a stop next to Ralof. And he's struck by two very simple facts; she's no longer the young girl who escaped from Helgen with him and she's grown into a beauty. Not in an obvious or overblown way, but in a quiet subdued way. The kind of beauty that made a man want to step closer and look into those troubled eyes. The kind of mystery that made a man want to offer to kill a dragon for her. Except, she could do that herself.

He noticed more as she drew nearer. She's much too thin and the dark circles under her eyes stand out like bruises against pale cheeks. Should he be worried about her time with Ulfric? His heart ached for her, but it was none of his business. People higher up than him were watching out for her. If he could give her a taste of freedom today he would be grateful for that.

In spite of his intentions to leave it alone, once they were well away from the city he asked about her welfare. "I need your help, but I don't want to cause a problem between you and the Jarl."

"I intended to go out this morning anyway. You showing up just make it easier for me to escape."

"Escape? Does that explain the circles under your eyes or the fact you look thin enough to slide between the slats of a fence?" He apologized immediately at her sharp look. "I'm sorry. Vika, we are friends, right?"

"Of course. I owe you my life."

"Enough of that, Vika." He waved away her comment. "We helped each other escape Helgen that day. You've done great things since then and all on your own. I'm here for you. Always remember that."

"Did my Father put you up to this?" She eyed him warily her horse sidestepping away.

"Your father? Why would you think such a thing? You're the one who used the word 'escape'"

Ralof watched her stare at the horizon. The men are waiting for them at Fort Neugrad. But he cannot resist offering her something. She's troubled. He reached out to her gauntleted hand, the way a friend would. At his touch her shoulders rounded. Sliding his horse alongside hers he continued to hold her forearm but also slid an arm around her waist. They stayed together like that for several minutes while Vika struggled with her emotions.

"Vika take what you need from me. You don't have to hide anything. I know your strength and bravery. You've got nothing to prove to me."

With a long sigh she removed her helmet and laid her head on Ralof's shoulder. He thought to himself, as he felt her relax, if someone has her hurt her, he will see to it. Even if it's the Jarl himself he will see to it.

"Myn lykyng, look at me, he said gently holding her chin between his fingers and gazing into her eyes. You don't look yourself. I'm worried about you and if you'll let me, I'll watch out for you. Is it possible you're with child?"

"How dare you say such a thing?"

"I'll say it because we're friends."

"Everyone is certainly worried about me. I'm fine. I'm in love! I'm betrothed to Ulfric Stormcloak. I'm happy!"

"You didn't answer my question, Vika. If you're pregnant with the Jarl's child you've no business out here fighting with me and my men. Now tell me the truth of it."

"Of course I'm not pregnant. It's ridiculous."

"You're not that naive, Vika. You're his woman. You know it's possible."

"I'm not his woman. You make me sound like a whore! I'm his betrothed."

"This is Skyrim. We both know it often amounts to the same thing."

"Well, not always." The haughty tone in her voice implied her Imperial City upbringing. Replacing her helmet over her red hair Vika turned away. But Ralof wasn't ready for that to happen and he grabbed her by the arm.

"Vika? Listen to me!"

"He never touches me! Satisfied?" Then she yanked the reins and turned her horse toward Fort Neugrad.

A frontal attack on the fort was at best a suicide mission. He didn't have enough men for that anyway. As he observed the area from his hiding spot, for the first time he began to question Ulfric's tactics. The Jarl hadn't intended Vika to come with them. So how did he expect a handful of men to take down this fort? Stealth was the only way to enter this well fortified structure. No one one but the Dovahkiin had those kind of skills.

"There's an underground entrance, I'll slip in," she was saying behind him.

Although he found himself happily surprised they were thinking the same thing, he had no intention of allowing her to risk her life this way. Ralof slid from his horse. Vika was already securing her armor and weapons.

"Not today, my lady. I'll send to of my men."

"Can they do what I can?"

He had to admit they couldn't. "Vika, your health..."

"There's nothing wrong with my health. I'm not some delicate flower.

Unexpected emotions flooded through his veins when he realized by sending her alone into that fort might mean her death. No amount of magic could protect her from a whole army of Imperial soldiers. If she didn't come back, what would he say to her father? What would he do if he never saw her again?

"Ralof? Let go of my arms."

Without warning, he yanked on those forearms so hard their armor clanked together. His studded leather made a dull clunk against the her Nordic armor.

"You be careful in there, Vika. I'm not sure I'd care to live in a world without you in it."

Tempted by the upturned mouth and wide blue eyes. He briefly brought her fingers to his lips and pushed her away. She stumbled a few steps backwards in the deep snow. But Ralof stayed silent and simply gathered her horse's reins.

"We'll wait for the sound of battle and join you in the Keep," he said after a few seconds, without looking at her.

While they waited for her signal Ralof had a long talk with Talos about her safety and the possibility of her coming out of that fort alive. The men kept their horses quiet and stayed hidden in the snowy field. The falling snow shrouded them in a silent world of prayers and regret.

Presently they heard the first screams and the sound of battle. The wind changed direction and now they could smell burning flesh. Ralof saw the glow of a mage charging up spell, until he fell screaming off the battlement. She must of used on of her shouts at him.

The sounds of men attempting to muster their soldiers carried across the field. A few made it out the front gate only to be cut down by Ralof's best archer hidden on the other side of the clearing.

Captain Ralof signaled his men to charge. As they ran toward the entrance they watched a Fire Atronach clear the battlements of archers. Once inside, they spent the next hour in a sword fight with Imperial troops. When they made it to the inner door, the screaming and shouting suddenly stopped and the wooden door banged open the Dovahkiin stood alone in the opening. Ralof began to run and did not stop until he was standing in front of her.

She was covered in gore and ash. "The Imperials are dead. Dead! Dead!" She screamed into his face. "Is this what you wanted?"

Ralof signaled his men to secure the fort. Retrieving a skin of water and he tried to make her drink. She fought him until he took her weapons away from her.

"Give those back to me. Do you know who I am?" Her eyes roll backwards and she sways on her feet.

He catches her, "Vika, be still. Please." It was when she finally sat down and stopped fighting that he noticed the arrows protruding from her left thigh and her right shoulder. Blood bubbled up from the thigh wound.

Ralof thanked Talos when he saw the arrow hadn't penetrated her neck. The steel arrow had only grazed the skin on her shoulder and lodged in the armor. She's exhausted and barely conscious when he lifts her from the ground.

While his men secured the gate and the secret entrance, Ralof carried Vika inside the fort. He laid her down on a pile of furs next to the blacksmith's shop. He's already steeling himself for what is to come. There is no healer with them and in this state she is unable to cast a healing spell on herself. Even if she could, the arrow had bitten deep into her leg muscle. There was no magic in what they would have to do to help her.

After the dead were piled in the deep snow. The weapons collected and packed. Food organized and the entrances locked. One by one, the men joined him in the blacksmith's work area. One of the soldiers brought water and a few clean pieces of linen he'd managed to scrounge. Another sharpened his steel knife, its blade hissing rhythmically across the whetstone.

"Cap'n, found this in a chest. It'll help ease her while we work."

"Thanks Biorn. Ralof accepted the small bottle of healing potion from the soldier. Help me sit her up."

The big silent man gently lifted Vika from the ground and supported her while Ralof tried to rouse her enough to get her to swallow some of the potion.

"Sweeting? Can you open your eyes for me? I need you to swallow some of this potion. Vika?"

"She's a brave girl, Cap'n. Don't worry. We'll pull her through this. I mixed the potion with some good Nord ale to help dull her mind."

Then she woke long enough to drink the concoction and slipped away again. Biorn tapped Ralof.

"Now's the time."

Ralof slipped a leather thong between her teeth. The other men held her down while Biorn examined the arrow. They all knew it was a steel arrow, which meant Biorn would have to push it through her thigh to cut off the arrowhead. Only then could he remove the shaft. Even a seasoned soldier would scream through this kind of pain. Ralof's stomach clenched at the thought of his dear friend experiencing this level of agony. He shut his mind to the possibility of her being maimed.

So he slid his hand under her head to keep it from banging it against the cold stone floor and clasped the hand closest to him. With a nod, Biorn held her thigh still with one hand and with steady pressure pushed the arrow through and out the back of her leg.

Vika's eyes flew open and before anyone could stop her, she shot to a sitting position.

"Hold her, damn you!"

Ralof wrapped himself around her and held her to keep her from moving. She screamed against his chest.

"Be still, _Myn lykyng_. Hang on to me. Don't let go. Good girl. Hold on."

After cutting off the arrow head the big man dowsed both ends of the shaft with wine. Then in one quick movement, Biorn pulled the shaft back through her leg.

She screamed again and sank her teeth into Ralof's shoulder. He bit down on his own pain and continued talking to her. "Vika, listen to me. My brave beautiful, girl — I love you — I do — Talos, I love you." Oblivious to those around him, Ralof rocked her and tried to soothe her.

With the help of the other men Biorn washed out the wound with wine. He let Vika relax for a moment. She was still clutching Captain Ralof but her breathing was slow and she had the pain under control. He marveled again at her courage.

By the time Biorn finished packing the wound with a thick paste of spider webs and honey, she was conscious again.

"I—I have to get back to Windhelm. Ulfric will wonder…"

"Hush, Lass. You'll not be ruining my good work by moving around. You need to be still for at least the night."

Ralof was nodding in agreement. "I'll send a runner back to Windhelm. First thing in the morning, we'll head back." He thought for a moment and changed his mind. "No. I'll tell the runner to have Ulfric send a wagon for you."

After he got Vika settled by the fire, he headed out to walk the perimeter with his lieutenant. The snow had finally stopped and the world was wrapped in a sparkling veil of ice and snow. They watched as Ulfric's banner was hoisted over the fort. Ralof pulled his cloak around himself.

"Captain Ralof, if you'll pardon me saying so. I heard what you said to the Dragonborn. She's a difficult woman not to love, but you don't need that kind of trouble from Ulfric Stormcloak."

"I know, Sig. I know. And I'll not seek it. Have no fear of that. Come on, let's get inside before Biorn drinks all the ale."


	6. What is Hidden in Snow Chapter 6

TITLE: What is Hidden in Snow

CHAPTER: 6

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"True is the saying that no man shapes his own fortune."

(GS, c.41), _Grettir's Saga_

* * *

Biorn met Ralof and Sig at the door. "We saw to her needs, Cap'n. I tried to get her to go to sleep, but she keeps asking for you."

With a glance toward Sig, he headed to where Vika lay on a pile of furs next to the fire. The flames are reflected in her eyes. Her red hair is streaked with sweat. But for the moment the lines of pain were gone from her face. He longed to touch her. When her hand found his he couldn't pull away.

"Sit with me, Ralof?"

"Only for a minute. Then you must sleep." Ralof sat down cross-legged next to her while she continued to hold his hand.

"Please don't be cross. I'm glad we were successful at taking the fort. None of your men were injured?"

Her voice was like a small child's.

He shook his head. "Vika what do you think Ulfric's reaction will be when he sees you're hurt?"

"I don't know."

"Are you sure? If he brings soldiers with him and decides to retaliate we would be hard pressed to defend ourselves even inside this fort."

"I'm sorry...I just don't know," Vika turned her head away and stared at the fire. Ralof felt his frustration building. Where had his indomitable Dragonborn gone?

"Vika, you need to get your head out of the clouds. You are being very casual with other people's lives." He shook the hand he was holding to get her attention. Then as if she hadn't heard him at all she began speaking in that child's voice again.

"Do you hear them in your dreams? The ones you kill, I mean. Their screams and the fear on their face as they fall. I've never seen a single one look happy to see Talos or Sovngarde."

"Yes, they visit me in my dreams too. Sweet Vika, put it from your mind. You must let that wound heal. If it festers, I will have to face your father and I'd rather not have to do that. Will you rest, for me, now?" He smiled and kissed the back of her hand to show he was teasing her.

She answered his smile with one of her own and neatly tucked his hand under her chin. As he watched over her, his eyes grew heavy in the firelight and soon he drifted off too. He dreamed of running through underground caves. At every turn a cave bear or a frost spider jumped out at them. There was something precious in his hand. He couldn't let go of it. A frost troll charged from the shadows. His feet slipped on the ice. Suddenly his hand was empty and as he turned back to grab for it, another frost troll scooped up Vika and carried her away. No! _Vika!_

He was awakened by the shout of men and the slamming of a wooden door. Ralof rose on stiff legs to meet whoever came into the room. His sword slithered from its sheath.

"Ralof, help me to stand. I can help you."

"No! Vika stay where you are!" He placed himself between her and the door.

But it was only the runner he'd sent yesterday. Breathless and covered in dust from the road his eyes showed both his exhaustion and his fear.

"Captain Ralof! Ulfric comes this way with one hundred men. I heard him say he will route the traitor who stole his lady and caused her to be injured. You are not safe here Captain!"

"Has the man lost his mind?" Ralof slammed his sword into its scabbard.

"Sir, I saw him. He is wild with jealousy and looking for retribution. You were gone too long and now that a night has past he fears the worst. Please sir, you must flee this place."

Ralof made a decision. His voice echoed through the stone corridors. Soldiers jumped to obey his orders. "Call the men. Saddle up and arm themselves with the best of whatever they found. We'll take the best horses, plus a second for each man. Go! I'm right behind you."

Ralof dropped down on one knee next to Vika. "Sweeting, I cannot leave you and yet I cannot take you with me. Think now, will he harm you?"

Vika pulled herself to a sitting position. "Have them saddle Tyven!"

Headless of her injury, he yanked her to her feet. The skins fell away leaving her naked to his gaze and his touch.

"You cannot think of leaving with us! Do you understand it would mean exile and villainy for you? I won't let you. I can't allow it. Listen to me, damn you." His hands have found the soft bare skin of her back. He cannot let her go, but he must. Ulfric won't harm her and he can plan a rescue later with Brynolf if it comes to that.

"Ralof?"

Her strong hands touched the sides of his face. Fingertips in his hair. She's looking at him as if she's seeing him for the first time. "I won't ask you if you meant those words you whispered to me last night. Now isn't the time. But I feel more alive right now than I have in weeks. I _will_ come with you, beloved friend."

At her sweet words his body shouted at him to push her down to the furs still warm and scented from her body. An ache burning deep in his belly tempted him to act; Mark her, make her his woman and fill her with children. But there was no time for that and she is not for him. She never was and never will be. She is the Dragonborn and her fate lies elsewhere. The men call out to him, urging him to hurry. The clang of armor and the excitement of the horses summoned him to the business at hand.

"Help me dress. Quickly!"

The blond Nord did the only thing he could do. The only thing his heart would allow him to do. He helped her dress. His hands were shaking and his mind a blank as he watched the linen slip down over her firm figure. Calloused hands lingered close to the high firm breasts. Full hips tapered down to long legs, firmed and toned by constant activity. By the time he'd buckled the last piece of carved Nordic armor her face was white as the snow outside and her skin just as icy.

"Ralof!" She asked clenching her jaw to speak through the pain. "Please stop staring. You're only making things worse."

"Tell me you feel it too. Tell me…"

She looked at him sadly, "It's not the time. We have much work to do."

With a ragged breath of frustration - of course she's right - Ralof puts his arm around her waist. With as much of her weight as he can balance they rush out to the yard. Biorn prepared a soft Lambswool pad for her leg. With an improvised strip of leather he pushes her knee into a sling so no weight will pull on the wound. Once they get her settled in the saddle, she smiled her thanks to Biorn.

The silent man beamed up at her and nodded. "Ride well, My Lady. We shall keep a fast pace."

Tyven reared when an arrow struck the ground in front of him. He's not frightened, but he knows it's time to move. In their excitement to be off, the horses jib and pull. One of them whinnied. Even if they move out now, there's no way of knowing if Ulfric has all the entrances covered. But try they must. At Captain Ralof's signal they charge as one out the back entrance of Fort Neugrad and into the wilderness of The Pale.

Behind them they hear the distant shout of soldiers. With luck they will search the fort before they ride after them. Another arrow zings past and another clatters against Ralof's armor. It's a good sign, they are too far ahead for their arrows to hit their target with reliable accuracy. Their best bet is the mountains. Hidden within the granite walls they can snipe, hide and ambush. The captain sees a narrow trail at the foot of a cliff between two large boulders. He knows the trail and so do his men. Unfortunately, most of Ulfric's men are Nords and they will know it too.

"It's him, Ralof! I see his banner."

They turn as one toward the boulders. Before they can enter the trailhead six of Ulfric's men ambush them from above. Thay must have ridden hard to catch up with them, Ralof thinks. Hopefully, that means their horses are tired. Before he gives orders, Ralof checked Vika's position, she's drawn a hammer and shield.

He shouted to his men, "_Close_!"

On command, his men close the distance between them and Ulfric's men. Swinging their axes and hammers they knock the men from the saddle. Before they can regain their seat, Vika chased the horses toward Ulfric's direction. They won't get far very fast if they have to walk through the deep snow to report to Ulfric.

Scrambling up the slope, Ralof's men leave the angry Stormcloak soldiers in the snow. In a few moments, when their pride isn't smarting quite so much, they will realize they are still alive.

The ride into the mountains takes hours. The snow is thicker now and darkness is falling. It's slow going, but the new snow will cover their tracks. When they stop to rest the horses, Vika rides up to Ralof.

"I have a house further up this hill. There's a view all around. We'd be safe there until the storm blows over."

If he's surprised, he doesn't show it. With a nod to his men they turn their tired horses north and up another steep narrow path. After just an hour's ride the reach the summit of a wide plain of tundra. In the center of the wind-blown alpine meadow is Heljarchen Hall.

"This is your 'house'? Ralof stares with wide eyes.

"The Jarl sold me the land cheap and the house went up pretty quickly," Vika shrugged. "I had to do something with the septims."

Ralof gazed at her increduously. They are still arguing about the house when they ride into the yard. After a quick assessment Ralof directs the men to stake the horses out down behind the house where there's a natural canyon of rock. There's plenty of hay in the barn. Huddled together for warmth and safety the horses enjoy their meal. One or two of them lay down in the snow.

When Ralof turned away, she let the mask slip. No one has noticed that Vika is still in the saddle. The pain is so great she can neither stay in the saddle or dismount without help. Then Biorn is reaching up to her and she slides gratefully into his arms.

"Which is your room, My Lady?"

"Up the stairs on the right, but just put me in one of the single beds. Two soldiers can sleep in that bed. I don't need all that room."

Biorn laid her gently down on the furs and began to remove her boots. "May I remove your remaining armor?"

Vika shifted so he could reach the buckles and once she is out of the armor he covered her and prepared to check the wound.

To distract herself from the pain, she asked him how he is so easy around a woman's body.

"Five sisters, My Lady. Our parents, me and five sisters in a three room house. Here comes the Captain. I'll get you and him some food."

Ralof sat on the side of the bed. "How do you feel, Sweeting?"

"You shouldn't call me that. But I like to hear you say it."

"I have no right to call you anything but Dovahkiin." He grabbed her hands and shook them. Vika, tell me now! Why did you choose to run with us?"

With a cry she tried to stifle, Vika rose up and into Ralof's arms. "I can't go back there. I can't!" She whispered urgently against his shoulder. Ralof allowed his arms to hold her, his senses ignited and he held her for much longer than he should have.

"What will you do? Do you think you'd be safe in Riften with your parents?"

That sounded as if he meant to force her to leave. No matter what the future might bring, she had no intention of giving up her freedom again. But, reject her? No, she hadn't actually expected that. How fickle she must seem to him now.

"You wish to put me from you?"

"Never!"

"Ralof, my friend. I think you must take your men. Split up and get away from here. It is only a matter of time before someone in the forest sees all those horses. I will stay here and face Ulfric. No, don't look at me that way. It will give me time to judge his mood and calm his fears."

"He forced himself on you once," he warned.

She nodded and smoothed his blond hair back from his eyes. "That is a certainty. He will do it to prove his mastery over me. But I will not be frightened or subjugated by his actions."

"What are you talking about!"

"Ralof, if you'll have me. That is... if you want me. I chose you as the first man with whom I share myself. And the magic we create that night will sustain me for all the years to come."

"Vika!" He didn't stop himself this time or check his feelings. A look into her blue eyes reflected the truth of her words. Her lips were parted, waiting for him. Ralof watched her eyes close before he pressed his lips against hers.


End file.
